Shattered Past

A reflection is seen through his blade. Who is this person he sees. A young man, known as Alex by few. This reflection soon masked by faint bloodstains. His depart gives him comfort but he cannot help but remember how he came to this point. How did Alex become Alex?

"Wake up sleepy head. Its time to go to school." His mother barely ready herself. Instantaneous energy pulsated through his veins as he jumped from his small Speed Racer bed. He rushed to get ready for his first day of kindergarten. His emotions mixing like a cesspool of human waste. He grabbed his book bag and ran for the door grabbing his mothers arm. As she trotted along with him she coaxed his hand from her wrist into the palm of her hand. He stopped for a split second to glance at her hand wrapping around his and presumed to prance down the steep asphalt driveway. His anxiety waiting for the bus made him feel dizzy, almost ill. As the bus arrived he took a very broad step back. His mother nudged him towards the bus as the doors swung open revealing the ghastly bus driver. "Have a nice day." She said as she wrapped her arms around him. As his backpack touched her wrist he noticed she faintly winced. Once on, the bus started to pull away. Alex's eyes skimmed up and down the two rows looking for a vacant seat. He could not find place of his own but found a spot near a young girl. He went to ask her name but his anxiety covered his voice much like duct tape. She moved her book bag from under his feet up upon her lap. She rolled her eyes in disgust and peered out the window. Alex's right eye twitched once then stopped. He went to rub his eye in curiosity and noticed blood smeared across his palm. He put his hand in his pocket of his size eight denim jeans and made it through the day. 

When he came home he told his mother about the blood on his palm. It had crusted over on his hand and left a dark red tint along his palm lines and a faint red stain in his jeans. She shallowly tried to tell a white lie about him maybe touching a bloody table. "But mummy? Who got blood on the table?" His mother stared blankly at the wall behind him thinking. As she began to talk the door slammed open, almost knocking down the family picture of the wall. Subliminally this pushed a button in Alex's mind. At the time his only safe place was his fathers and this was one of the last things he remembered as "Daddy's". To mess with that picture was like to poke him with a sharp knife. It left little cuts and stung for a split second. After enough stumbling and thumping the front door shut almost abruptly as it was opened. The frame moved and part of his brain was poked with a knife. "Hello love" his mother greeted as his stepfather climbed the stairs. His face was sour, almost as if it was aging by the second. Like a little grape under a sunlamp. "Were's my dinner?" He croaked. "I ordered Chinese, it should be here in abou.." "Were is my Goddamned Dinner!" He bellowed, almost like an ogre that had just ate a crack rock.

"My wrist, its too sore.." she uttered. Then her words were cut off by a swift backhand to the face. "Go to your room!" She screamed at Alex. Snapping out of temporary shock he runs to his bedroom and locks the door. Why did she yell at him? He couldn't understand what he had did wrong between the split second she was slapped.

 For the next four hours he sat in his bed under his covers as his house was filled with sounds of yelling and screaming, thumping and smashing and shattering glass. In a way it was almost like past his door was a Warfield. Smashes like bombshells dropping in the wind. Soon it became quiet. In his mind he pictured the big blast of a bomb, as everything was swept away with the dust. After about an hour of restless silence his curiosity forced him to step from his almost peaceful domain. He crept down the hall and into his mothers bedroom. His stepfather was lying inside facing her opposite direction. It seemed odd that out of all nights he would sleep with her now. He usually slept in the basement sending roaring snores like echoes through a cavern. His mother was naked shivering without a cover. The stepfather bundled up in her comforter. She was all but red, hand prints covering her bottom and sides. She almost looked like she had fallen asleep crying. Crying in pain, in sorrow, in anger and regret.

 Alex crept to the hallway closet and unraveled a thin knit blanket that had been sitting there for months. He bundled her up almost as if he was the parent and she was the child. A lost child trying to find her way to happiness but her age is catching up to her. He lifted her wrist to put the blanket under her and felt a rough texture. Once he saw that it was gauze he slowly began to peel it off. It felt almost like a scab as blood and puss oozed from the fresh wound. Beneath the bloody tissue he found two gashes from what looked like a knife. He panicked and ran to the bathroom to find something to fix her wound. At the time he didn't know what to use and half of it he couldn't reach. After a few minutes he ran back to the bedroom with a tub of Neosporin brand cream. This is what his mother used when she fixed his "boo boo's" from the playground after school.

 When he entered the room he say a puddle of blood. It flooded the floor and crept towards him. Almost like a monster. He had no fear of the blood however. His mother was more important. He ran through the puddle leaving red footprints across the floor. He could feel the blood soaking through his brand new footy pajamas. He clasped his mothers hand and put his ear to her chest. No beating, not a stir. She was gone, forever, dead and cold. The creature that poked the knife into his brain suddenly jammed it dead center, twisting the knife like a windup toy. He could almost feel what seemed like blood from his brain making him warm inside. He ran to the kitchen almost slipping in his mothers blood. Tears ran down his face as he grabbed his mothers craft scissors. Then he walked slowly to his mothers room. Peering over the side of her bed looking down at the fat b*****d below. "You killed my mommy." he said gripping the scissors within his fist. The stepfather awoke with a scowl. "Go to bed you little br.." Alex plunged the scissors into the large mans neck. Blood showered his face and hands as he clenched his teeth. He leaned down next to his stepfather as he made a gurgling sound which shook the scissors. "The devil can have you." Whispered Alex as he opened the scissors inside of the mans neck. With a swift yank he pulled them out. He set them on his mothers nightstand. He sat in the blood and gave his mother a kiss on the forehead like she used to do to him. Then he uttered " I will see you soon." and left the room shutting the door behind him.